The Cantarella
by The Seelie Court Jester
Summary: There's a limit to how poisonous love can be. For some, it's the taste of corrupted innocence that can become so tempting, so addicting, to the point they must preserve whatever naiveté there is left. For others, it's the sight of unquestionable sinfulness that keeps them grounded to reality, though even that reality might be just another delusion.
1. An intruder in the gardens

He carelessly slipped through the night, the tiny slips of crimson descending from every sound he made. Cold breaths flew past him, their ghoulish wisps reminding him of a forgotten, stoic demeanor he couldn't afford to remember. Sirens wailed throughout the midnight air, as he tried entwining himself within each silhouette he could make out, all the while willing away his obvious shadow. Agonizing screams pierced through the atmosphere, as officers scattered across the vicinity, the sounds of duel runners roaring to life. Panicked, yet satisfied, foreign, harsh orders reached his ears. With that, the man's turbulence grew.

His eyes hurriedly scanned the darkness, endeavoring to find a suitable hiding place until frustration took over the police. With one, fluid motion, he stole away into a small, far off corner, in a neglected shed housing the obscurity the city forced upon it. Silently, he made his way through the winding labyrinths, and forced himself through the icy night, doing whatever he could to keep his pale, ghostly breath hidden. From the corner of his eyes, he caught the familiar flashlights swarming all over the place.

He cursed, but at the same time, an unmistakable smile tugged at his lips. His breathing became slower, and gradually, his pulse quieted. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, and the adrenaline faded from his bloodstream. His footsteps became louder and louder, until finally, he came to that small, lone corner. He stared at it for a while, before collapsing, that strange, perverse heat catching up to him once more. He closed his eyes and grinned maniacally, fighting down his humorless laughter, as the police, once again, bypass him. He waited for a bit, but a few moments later, engines roared, and voices faded in the distance, the anger very evident in their tones.

He smirked happily. He waited for a few more minutes, before he stood up, and gazed out at the darkness surrounding him. Slowly, he slipped his fingers in his ragged pockets, the torn fabric blending in so helplessly with the shadows around him. A searing sensation touched the tips, but somehow, he managed to ignore it. Carefully, he pulled out what appeared to be a crumpled, white rose. He closed his eyes, and savored its delicious scent.

He couldn't wait to see her again.

* * *

 _Dark petals swayed within the evening breeze, the tiniest of movements carefully watched over its keeper. Weeds and thorns dance along the darkening horizon, the slightest shades of pink and orange quickly vanishing from the skies. Lonely shadows entwine within the atmosphere, and along with that, a serene beauty not even the howling wind could begin to describe. Seams of red and white decorate the verdant fields, with nary an unborn blossom in sight. Some flowers were roses, others amaryllises. There were quite a few intruders here, in this garden, but of course, the roses will take control of them; there was no need to rush things._

 _A raven-haired man strolled along the cobblestones. His hazy silhouette grazed the ground with black and azure. Deep, blue orbs cast a forlorn, nostalgic look over the garden, and a tiny frown danced along the edges of his lips. There were blond streaks embedded in his hair. He had tan skin that contrasted sharply to the brilliant, cruel moon that slowly came from its rest. He wore a tattered, black sweater, and donned simple black jeans, with dark brown combat boots. There was a dark, stringed collar wrapped around his neck, and to the side, a black rose._

 _The man stopped for a moment, and closed his eyes. The breeze blew past his cheeks, and though it came away from him easily, there was a strange smell, however, that didn't. Along with that smell, noises came from the background, greedy noises that made him wonder if there was another one of her stalkers nearby._

 _Ah, the creature was scampering away._

 _Yusei opened his eyes then, and stared off into the night._

 _It seems that there really was an intruder in the garden._

* * *

Author's Note:

-Hello, I am the Seelie Court Jester, and I do not own Yu-gi-oh 5Ds.


	2. Angel's Trumpet

Richard Williams was an average man of average height and average weight, who made an average amount of money per year, who had an average life, and was just as boring as he could make himself out to be. He had dull, brown hair that always stuck up when it got humid, and dark, droopy eyes that made him want to cringe every time he looked in a mirror. He was always tired-looking, and whenever he tried being friendly, for some reason, he'd end up chasing his companion away, either by some random, snide comment, or an insensitive remark. He was scrawny, and though he had an okay life, he wasn't particularly satisfied with anything in it. He didn't know why; he just wasn't.

But he did have friends and family, however little they may be. His parents were always setting him up on blind dates, trying to get him to see women around his age. His friends from the office, meanwhile, would take him to the bar, and pick out girls who were just standing around, nice girls who probably wouldn't even be there if not for their own friends dragging them out. Because Richard was such an exemplary employee, he was always invited to parties and social outings, so it's not like he was a recluse.

Still, this kind of life wasn't that bad. He got to meet new people (objects he wasn't interested in), find out new things (ideas he didn't even need), and try out new opportunities (moments he'd sleep through happily). But for some reason, Richard just…wasn't satisfied. It was as if he knew every tiny detail reality had already planned out for him, and it was a prospect he wasn't fond of. He was unattached to anything and everything around him, and it didn't seem like he'd get anywhere with it. It was almost as if his own boredom was taunting him, mocking him, deluding him into believing there was nothing else in this world left for him to see.

It was too unbearable a concept.

However, that changed one morning. He was working at his desk as usual, either sorting out the manager's schedule, or fending off another horde of unforgettable favors, when he got a strange call from his younger brother.

Richard stared at his cellphone for a while. Typically, whenever Andrew called, it was either to set him up on another blind date, or visit their parents in the nursing home. The little bastard can't get anyone else to help him with his issues, and since Richard was just sitting here, he probably figured, why not? So the man sighed, picked up the phone, and held it against his ear. "Hello?"

"DUDE DUDE DUDEDUDE _DUDE_!"

Crap.

"What?" Richard replied calmly. "I'm working-"

"WGGK! Turn it on NOW!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why? What's-?"

"FORTUNE CUP!"

He fought down the urge to hang up. Yes, he's heard of the Fortune Cup. Apparently, it was this big duel tournament Director Goodwin was hosting, and whoever won it would have the chance to take on Jack Atlas. Since Andrew was a street duelist, he was hoping to get an invite; fat chance of that happening, but since that wasn't the case, he resigned himself to just watching the tournament.

And it was a pretty exciting one too. There's a young girl, and a professor, a rouge Satellite named Yusei. Oh, and the old champion, that Hunter guy-

" _ARE YOU LISTENING?!"_

Quickly, Richard snapped back to attention. His fingers drummed impatiently, as he tried getting the teen to calm down. "Yeah yeah," he said harshly. "What're you saying? Something about…?"

"It's the Black Rose! _She actually came to the tournament!"_

The Black Rose huh? Andrew was a really big fan of hers. According to the rumors, she's a witch who appeared at the street duels, and, unlike the other losers there, wins. Afterwards, when she gets bored of the same old pests coming up to challenge her, she'd leave. No one knew anything about her, except that she wields the Black Rose Dragon, and that she has "magic" powers that could destroy anything around her. Sector Security has already been on the look-out for her, but so far, no disciplinary action had been taken. No one's even ensuring the onlookers' safety, which, of course, Richard found a bit strange.

But even more than that, she probably got to live out the excitement he couldn't. From the way she dueled, she didn't really care about how anyone thought of her; she lived in that sweet, everlasting darkness, and because of that, people saw her as strange, cursed, terrifying. To Andrew however, she was beautiful.

And Richard deeply resented that.

Still, it wasn't like he was actually going to get to _see_ her. After all, from what Andrew tells him, that Satellite was a really good duelist too. And there were still other contestants there, like Koda and Grieger, so it's not like that spotlight will last forever. Besides, people in Neo Domino don't take too kindly to freaks. Once Andrew realizes that, he'd come back to his old, idiotic self, and go one with his street duels. And honestly, Richard was getting pretty sick of hearing that name all the time.

Later that day, some of his co-workers had actually gotten Richard to watch the Fortune Cup. It was pretty disappointing; like his brother, they kept chatting on and on about the witch. Even the manager was interested in her, though of course, he was interested in any duelist that came along and stole the show. They were all sitting in the lounge with their sodas, those same, lazy expressions adorning their face, their sloppy smiles messily glaring at Richard, as one by one, they invited him to sit down. At first, he refused, but later, when the men kept tugging his arm, and the women jeered and sneered at his cowardice, he finally gave in.

Reluctantly, his eyes came up to the flickering screen. He folded his arms in front of his chest, and resumed his haughty disposition. That shallow amiability turned to outright hostility, as he replayed all the past complaints he had in his head.

She was a monster, a creature who tore up downtown, who probably murdered people for fun, who scared people into submission with that pitiful dragon of hers. Why Andrew was so obsessed with her, he had no clue. Slut, whore, _bitch-_

The first time he saw that screen, those words simply vanished.

After the tournament, Richard took care to asking questions about the Black Rose. Andrew, of course, was too busy squealing after replaying her duel on his computer, so it was hard to get him to even sit still and just…talk.

But after a while, when Andrew came around to praising his idol around the man, Richard finally got what he asked for.

"Akiza!" he instantly screamed. "I-I can't believe it! S-she looks like she's around…around my age! R-right? She's into junior high kids, right?!"

Junior high.

She might be the same age as Andrew then.

"What else do you know about her?" Richard demanded.

"W-well…" the boy said shyly, awkwardly scratching his neck as he glanced away, trying to think of other compliments to describe her. "She…she's a _gorgeous_ ginger, and she's got these honey-gold eyes that'd just…! Oh! And she wears this really cool Victorian getup that-!"

"Yeah, what else?" he pressed impatiently.

"U-um, she's uses a plant deck… wait."

Andrew drew back instantaneously. He stared at his brother for a bit, before he leaned over, with a suggestive smile on his face. "Are you-?"

His already annoyed eyes flicker up at Andrew. _"Just answer the damn question."_

"Screw you too," he said quietly. Andrew leaned back in his chair, and turned back to his monitor, the disinterest already showing in his eyes. He sat there for a while, the silence dawning on the both of them, before he sighed. "That's all."

 _"_ _Look-"_

"There isn't a lot of information about her, you know? And besides, why the hell are you so interested anyways?" Andrew pressed. "It's not like you to ask about someone like that."

"I…I just-!"

"Admit it," he teased. "You _like_ her."

An embarrassing, unfamiliar heat flushed across Richard's cheeks then. He stomped away then, unwilling and unable to turn and face Andrew's entertaining accusations.

* * *

 _Bright rose petals flickered along the lines of that warm, summer afternoon. Thornless stems covered the vicinity of the gardens, the stray weeds losing sight of the archaic pavement lying near. White fences littered the beds, creating a wall of leaves and vines that gave way to a more enchanting atmosphere, one that blossomed within the garden's wonderful fragrance. Red and white entwined within the seams, all of which were clumped together in their comfortable, warm hearths. They watched their guests in their immature magnificence, the graceless elegance coming away from them so easily._

 _There were seven people in the garden. There was a man with broad shoulders, and grayish, brown hair. He had wrinkles that coated the corners of his eyes, along with a small, scratchy beard to come with it. Wearing a dark, sleek business suite, he had an embarrassed smile on his face, with a slight blush on his cheeks at the thought of being old. A woman sat beside him, who had the same wrinkles, though lovely, maroon hair cascaded down her back, her wide, caramel eyes taking in the jubilance surrounding her. She giggled at the antics surrounding her, the quiet peace embedded in the air as she went about her day._

 _There were also adults, though they behaved like children. There was a blond child, who towered over the man. He had bright yellow spikes on the side of his head, with dark, amethyst eyes, as he glowered angrily toward his companion. He wore a white trench coat, with iron spikes on the shoulders, along with grey gauntlets that made him seem more intimidating than he really was. His companion, an orange-haired child, with yellow marks on his face, laughed mockingly at the destruction the blond child managed to cause. He wore a short, brown vest, with an orange undershirt beneath. His combat boots swept away the rose petals as he ran about, trying to avoid the bullying, as he snarked back at his friend. One was Jack Atlas, the other Crow Hogan._

 _Yes, there were real children too, though they behaved as adults. Twins, in fact; a boy and a girl. Both had green hair, the girl's in pigtails, the boy's in a ponytail. The boy had on a blue jacket and shorts, with a darker shade beneath. The girl had the same scheme, though she donned pink clothes, rather than blue. The boy was Leo, and the girl was Luna._

 _A witch sat at the table, a beautiful girl named Akiza. Crimson bangs were tightly woven behind her head, with a single, black ribbon to keep them from falling apart. Golden eyes reflected back the joy around her, as she sang back the spoiled lullabies her friends relayed around her. A Victorian trench coat descended down her small frame, along with a red corset that enveloped her tiny waste. A burgundy dress lay beneath that trench coat, and black stockings coated her creamy legs, with red pumps to match below._

 _Sitting next to that witch, was Yusei._

 _All were around an iron, Victorian table, which housed a large tea set that came with all kinds of decorations and snacks. Apparently, the man was going to leave for some foreign country far away, and he and the woman wanted to properly thank the adults and children for taking care of his daughter. It wasn't much, he knew, and in hindsight, the entire thing seemed a bit girly, in his opinion. However, the woman pushed for the idea, and so, here they all were, taking time, drifting calmly through the hours. Finally, the man decided to try and make some attempt at a real conversation. "Mr. Atlas-"_

 _"Oi! Come back here Crow!"_

 _Distant muffled taunts bombarded the blonde's ears._

 _Jack slammed his fists down. "The deuce does he think he is anyways?!"_

 _Yusei sighed inaudibly, as he slunk in his seat, an amused smile grazing his lips. Akiza flickered a curious gaze at him, before throwing an annoyed glance at Jack, who was now racing off to murder Crow. "Morons," she mumbled._

 _"It's natural."_

 _"So?" she questioned playfully, as she set a tiny, white teacup near him. Yusei grabbed the handle, and placed the rim near his lips. "Thanks," he said._

 _"It's fine."_

 _"So Mr. Izinski!" Leo interrupted then, as he leaned enthusiastically over to the senator. "What's it like? I mean, you're rich, huh?"_

 _"Leo!" Luna scolded, before turning to the couple. "I'm so sorry. What he meant to say was-"_

 _Mr. Izinski chuckled warmly. "Don't worry, I know what he means." He looked down at the boy with nostalgic eyes. "It's a tough job, and I don't get to spend much time with my family as I like. Still, it's very rewarding."_

 _"Right!" Leo stated excitedly, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Taking out the bad guys, making sure everyone's safe-!"_

 _"Leo…" Luna muttered miserably._

 _All the while, Akiza and Yusei stared at the four, the incident between the two rampant strays forgotten altogether. They stared after them for a while, before Akiza sighed. "It's nice."_

 _"It is." Yusei answered._

 _"It'd be great if we could stay like this forever."_

 _He blinked, as he straightened himself, his back settled against chair. His azure eyes showed a hint of concern, as melancholy came across Akiza's expression. She seemingly caught herself, and in an instant, she shook her head frantically, a sheepish smile nestled along her lips. "S-sorry," she stammered._

 _"Everything okay?"_

 _She paused then, trying to determine if she should even talk about such a mundane problem. However, as time passed, her hesitation gradually evaporated from her face, and she caved. "So…have you heard the news?"_

 _"News?"_

 _"About…that serial killer."_

 _Yusei started to shake his head, when he stopped, remembering that he watched the broadcast from the twins' mansion once. Right now, both Sector Security and the Public Safety Bureau were on a massive manhunt, trying to look for this guy. Everyone's scared witless; the victim's bodies were all mutilated, carved, dismembered, practically anything anyone could think of. And with each kill, the details became more and more intricate; suddenly, limbs were being stacked, torsos ripped apart, before being assembled into some sick, horrifying "artwork", as the murderer calls them. When it came time for those "artworks" to be discovered, a single, white flower was always lodged in the victim's mouth._

 _It was gruesome, to say the least._

 _He nodded. "I do."_

 _Akiza clenched her fists. "You know what they're calling the killer, right?"_

 _He scrutinized her for a bit, the nervousness making their way back to her expression. He closed his eyes, and with one finger, poked her head lightly. "You shouldn't worry about something like that."_

 _"Yeah but-"_

 _"The Black Rose," he stated softly, "is a monster. You, on the other hand, aren't."_

 _A creeping blush came around her neck. Hastily, she turned away, with a tiny, soft smile upon her now trembling mouth. She pulled away from him, and fixed her attention on the twins and her parents, who were now chatting happily about some political issue that had long since resolved itself._

 _Yusei turned back to his own teacup, and watched his own, shimmering reflection. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Akiza drinking from her cup._

* * *

Author's Note:

-Angel's Trumpet is an incredibly powerful hallucinogen. There have been many reports of death and hospitalizations from recreational use. Ironically, due to its addictive nature, it also goes by names such as Devil's snare, and stink weed.

-In this chapter, Yusei won't count as a person.


	3. Belladonna

Of course, the Black Rose, or rather, Ms. Akiza, was just one girl. Surely, with enough time, Richard would get over her, and move on. Though the man was grateful that she brought _some_ enjoyment to his life, in the end she'd be just another passerby he couldn't bring himself to waste his time on. And especially after that _humiliating_ loss at the Fortune Cup, surely he wouldn't see _her_ any time soon. She was a teenage girl after all, and when teenagers lose things, they tend to get a bit…emotional. Besides, it'd been about a year since the tournament, right? And since she hadn't been to the street duels, it's clear she's still incredibly depressed. Who knows? Maybe she just dropped off the face of the earth like a bad curse, or perhaps she might've even killed herself, just to be done with this rotten world.

But, somehow, someway, that girl managed to prove him wrong.

One evening, while he was out strolling Neo Domino, he got a call from the manager. One of the coworkers managed to get pregnant, so now, everyone's got to give her something. Flowers, baby formula, diapers, anything was fine as long as "the damn woman used them." Richard would be lying if he said he wasn't irritated, but he swallowed his vanity, and agreed to buy the woman a gift.

He walked through the streets, shifting through the possible options. He never bothered taking in the low lights those intricate lanterns offered, the laughter resounding through the seemingly joyous atmosphere. He never saw those playful, little animals following him, or the children who rushed toward their parents, or even forbidden trysts just around the corner. Richard simply kept his eyes down, and followed the sidewalk, still trying to determine what kind of present would offer the least trouble. He became so confused he had to stop, and think on the concept for a bit.

And suddenly, he was on the ground.

"Sorry," a sonorous voice whispered.

There was a young woman standing in front of him, who was gripping an array of bright, red roses in her arms. She had long, mahogany bangs neatly brushed to the side, and an iron hairpiece placed above her forehead. Golden, feline-like eyes stared back at him with a feral concern that made Richard shiver. Her pale, creamy skin illuminated his surroundings, all of which contrasted gracefully to the black nearby.

A humiliating blush came upon Richard's face. He stood and, after almost tripping yet again, shook his head violently. "N-no! I-it's fine!" he stammered.

He blinked, as he took in his suddenly lame disposition. His lips felt dry, and his eyes were all over the place. His hands kept brushing off the rose petals off his ragged coat, attempting to play the accident off as that, an accident. "I…I wasn't looking…"

The woman stared at him for a bit, then smiled angelically. "Right," she said calmly, as she brushed him aside. She was about to walk off, into the darkness, away from the lanterns and laughter, from the children and adults, when he suddenly grabbed the cuff of her sleeve. Alarmed, she turned, her cropped hair adorably swaying away from her high, light lavender collar. "Um, can I-?"

"Name."

"What?"

It'd occurred to Richard that he still had her sleeve. Quickly, he swiped his hand away, and shoved it firmly in his pocket. He stared at her for a little, before turning away, trying to force the words out of his mouth. "I uh…can I…have your name?"

The woman turned. "Akiza."

"…I'm…really sorry that I-"

"Don't worry about it. I wasn't watching."

"I… was just wondering…"

"Hmm?"

"My um…my friend…" he managed. He clenched his fists, as he fixed his eyes on the ground. What was _wrong_ with him? Why can't he say anything else? Can't he do any better than _that_? "She's…pregnant…"

She blinked. "Congratulations?"

"I-t's not mine," he immediately said, only to receive that same, awkward silence. He cursed himself mentally. He sighed then, and looked at Akiza calmly. "I need to give her something."

"…Diapers?"

"It's tonight," he hastily lied.

Akiza stared at him for a while, before looking down at the bouquet in her arms. A moment later, she began fumbling with the roses, and pulled out a single, freshly cut flower. She smiled sheepishly. "Here," she offered. "Sorry; it's the only one that doesn't have thorns."

"B-but-!"

"It's tonight, right? And it's not like you can buy anything _now_."

Richard stared at the woman for a while, then looked down at the rose she offered him. Slowly, he reached out, and took it.

"See?" Akiza pressed. "Hey, and if it's a girl, she could always name her Rose, right?"

"R-right. T-thanks-"

"Glad I could help," she dismissed politely, before turning around, and leaving.

It only took him a few seconds to realize who Akiza was, not long after she slipped through his fingers.

* * *

 _His calm footsteps echoed throughout the corridor, the quiet enveloping around him softly, gently. A procession of shadows followed him through the hallways, as that same, cool wind blew outside. If he listened closely, he could hear the leaves prattling about, the branches rapping against some far off window. He hummed to the harsh lullaby for a bit, before going on inside the home, gliding through the darkness with a concerned, yet warm, gleam in his eyes. In his left hand, he held a tiny, golden music box, with a single, white rose on the top. There was nothing special about it really; neither the appearance nor the lullaby are worth wasting his time on. However, Akiza loved listening to this thing, so he brought it with him._

 _Yusei kept moving on, taking in the blurs he passed just minutes before. Serene portraits of homes, farms, dogs, anything at all, watching him with relaxed gazes. Light-filled vases slept when he walked by; when he squinted, he could make out his own reflection, however hazy it was. The red carpet silenced whatever sound he made, the muffled echoes resounding throughout the night with perfect accuracy. Large, rectangular windows relayed the grandiose gardens nestled outside, along with a few hidden shadows nearby. Some were small, tiny animals he'd take care of later, others unfortunate tumbleweeds who were already unraveling at the seams, and even still, that same intruder, who kept stumbling all over the thorns. He only had to stop and listen for the man's painful grunts and whimpers, though in the end, his delusions kept even those senses away._

 _He came to a big, white door. His eyes stole down to the music box, if only for a while, before he smiled, and grabbed the knob. Slowly, he pushed the door open, and came into the room._

 _The bedroom was plain, simple. Dark, velvet curtains covered the window on his left, and in front of that, a wooden desk filled with neatly stacked books and assignments. Handwritten sticky-notes covered one of the panes, coated with formulas and German vocabulary, some he knew, some he didn't. That plain, black chair reminded him of the chairs back in the garden, though of course, it was probably more comfortable, more hospitable. Yusei couldn't help but chuckle to himself for that thought, as he shut the door. There was the window, and the closet, with a red suitcase in the front door. He stared at it, before turning his attention to the bed at the back of the room._

 _The covers were a dark mahogany, a color that contrasted sharply to the white walls. Yet beneath it were pale, creamy sheets. The headboard was a warm brown, the ostentatious wood spreading to the small bookshelf to the right of it. Like the desk, there were books upon books on that fragile thing, though of course. A few study abroad brochures here and there, but that was for next year._

 _Silently, he placed that rundown music box on top of that shelf. With one hand, he began winding it, the soft ticks barely reaching his ears as he did. He knew what to expect moments later; whenever that lullaby plays, that little rose will just twirl around and around and around. The music lasted for as long as Akiza wanted it to, but she would never admit it. The only thing she was willing to confess to was the fact that she used it to study, but since she was a bit embarrassed by the habit, she gave the box to him, to curb that adorable tendency. When he asked where she got it, she said it was from a clearance sale._

 _"It sounded nice," was what she told him. "And it helps me sleep."_

 _When he finally placed that box down near her bedside, Yusei smiled. Carefully, he turned to the girl on the bed._

 _Calm breathing came from her chest. A genuine grin grazed her lips, the dream replaying itself behind her closed eyes. Her bangs were splayed throughout her pillow, the strands scattering everywhere with their graceless elegance. Her slender figure was hidden beneath the heavy blankets, the stray hem of her pink nightgown peeking out from underneath the cover._

 _He brushed the bangs away from her angelic face, the strands falling from her collarbone. He straightened himself, then tucked the hem of the gown inside the covers. He paused when she murmured her dream, that sweet, sly smile fading off to a tiny, simplistic smirk that made him laugh. The drug probably wasn't going to wear off anytime soon._

 _He stared at her for a little more. Slowly, he reached out, and combed away the last stray strand. Afterwards, he leaned forward, his lips slightly brushing her ear, and whispered, "Sweet dreams."_

 _He then turned his gaze to the window then, and imitated her smile._

 _The intruder got inside._

* * *

Richard resolved himself to see Akiza again after that night.

He didn't know why, but for some reason, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Her lovely smile, the way she talked, the grace she exuded from from the air around her; it was all so ethereal. She was feral and domestic, bad and good, real and imaginary, all at once. It was as if she was there one minute, basking in that glorious light, the shadows never once bothering to touch her, then the next, she disappeared, those same shadows overtaking her so easily. She was there, but at the same time, she wasn't. Even after months had passed after that encounter, though he never saw her again, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

The only thing he had to prove her existence was that single rose she'd given him. No, he didn't give it to that woman, nor did he make up any excuse as to why he didn't show up to work for the next few days. He just sat there, in his apartment, staring at that now wilting flower. He watched that luscious red fade with each second passed, that sweet, decadent smell becoming more and more evident, to the point he was sure he could smell it from a few miles away. The thorns were all clipped away, and only two leaves remained upon that flower. But all the same, it was lovely to look at; just its vulnerability reminded him of Akiza. And if he stared down at those unclipped thorns, he could practically see her naiveté, the defeat at the Fortune Cup removing every single thorn she nursed. It was as if she was here now, harmless, a pretty little thing in the midst of a turbulent, torrential world.

The only person he talked with about her was Andrew. At first, the boy was reluctant to give Richard anymore information, considering the obsessive way he kept talking about her. But later, after a few more weeks of pleading and demanding and swallowing his pride, Andrew finally agreed. So he dug up whatever information he could about her, and compiled it into a neat Word document only they could access.

They already knew she attended Duel Academy, but Richard couldn't just show up there unannounced; he'd look like a stalker. They also knew she was the Black Rose, and ever since the Fortune Cup, she hadn't shown up at the street duels. The Arcadia Movement was a new one, but the entire organization's destroyed with that scandal about the leader. There's no way she'd still be there.

Richard cussed then. "You _don't_ know her last name?"

Andrew glared back. "Hey man, if you want help with this-"

"You remember _anything_ about the tournament?"

"Well…she crushed my seat-"

"What else?"

"Dude, if you're gonna pull that card, then _wait_ …here!" Andrew said exasperatedly. He carelessly twisted the monitor to Andrew's face, and leaned back tiredly. "Damn; I feel sorry for that chick."

"Shut it," Richard grumbled, as he scanned through the website. Okay, so she lost the Fortune Cup. She's attending Duel Academy, and it looks like she…competed the World Grand Prix with Team 5Ds. She was there, along with Jack Atlas, and the Satellite, and some other men he didn't know. There were two kids there, probably around ten or twelve. She looked really happy, didn't she?

Akiza Izinski.

Izinski.

Richard narrowed his eyes. "Hey, look up Izinski."

"Bro, you seriously need to get another hobby-"

" _Just do it."_

Andrew stared at him for a while, before sighing. He twisted the monitor back, and his fingers began flying across the keyboard. "You owe me," he grumbled.

"Uh-huh."

"So what? What're you gonna do?"

"I've heard that name before. There!" he shouted, as he pointed to the screen. Andrew followed his finger, then clicked on the link.

Hideo Izinski.

 _The_ _senator._

The two sat there in silence, the tension tap-dancing happily with the awkwardness that came with the revelation. Wordlessly, Andrew started scrolling down the website, all the while trying to find something to say to his hopeless brother. "H-hey," he managed, "it doesn't say he's got a…yep. Yeah, he does. Yeah…yeah you're screwed."

Richard could feel his pride crumbling away. His eyes widened at the notion of it, and though he kept trying to rationalize his fears, whispering to himself that this was a good thing, that he didn't want just any bimbo off the street, he couldn't stop himself from trembling. This girl needed to be protected, and yet, when he thought of offering himself up, she already had it. She didn't need him. She probably didn't even _want_ him, considering how badly he messed up the first time they met. His palms were starting to sweat again, and he was already shaking from the mere thought of seeing her again, only this time, with daddy dearest in tow.

It was the first time he felt so intimidated.

But somehow, he managed to get that self-inflated pride up once again. He took a deep breath, and asked Andrew where the senator lived.

After the longest time, Andrew finally said, "You really are a suicidal bastard, you know that?"

"I…I need a-"

"A new rose?" he joked, his eyes sliding down to the withered one crushed against Richard's palms. "Yeah, like that excuse is gonna work."

"Dude…"

"Listen, you're gonna need something else, you know? I mean, look at him!" Andrew settled back in his seat, and took in the almost frightening light in the senator's somewhat friendly expression. "If the Black Rose really _is_ the senator's daughter, and it says so… _RIGHT…HERE…_ then she's high maintenance. Who knows? Maybe she's not as sweet as you think-"

Richard shook his head. "No way. She wouldn't hurt anyone. At least, now she wouldn't."

"You're putting an awful lot of pressure on some girl you barely know."

"I just know, okay?"

"That's what they all say. Does she even _know_ your name?"

"I-"

Andrew turned back. "Yeah. No pressure, huh? You sound more like a fan than some hopeless romantic. Want my advice?"

"Not really."

"Give up on her. Or at least, think up of another excuse before you actually see her again. What? You just gonna show up at her door and say, 'Hi, girl I've only met once in my life! Marry me!'"

"Just…just shut up," he muttered childishly.

* * *

Author's Note:

-The Belladonna, also known as the deadly nightshade, is one of the most deadly plants in the world. Like the Angel's Trumpet, it can be fatal even in the most smallest of doses. It also has a frightening array of nicknames, such as Death's Herb, and the Sleeping Nightshade. The plant can cause powerful hallucinations, blurred vision, and increased sensitivity to light. However, murderers don't really use this plant, simply because the side-effects are so obvious.


	4. Hellebore

Akiza was scared, that much Yusei knew.

Some people wanted to know if she knew anything about the guy, while others kept accusing her of being the serial killer. She didn't want to speak up about it, since she knew that any word she said would be used against her, any snarky gesture used in society's makeshift trials. Yes, she was tough, and yes, she did take the time to defend herself from those false accusations, but in the end, that wasn't going to be enough. There was only so much she could do before she caved.

It'd be so much easier if she just forgot this entire thing. After all, if she thought of this as some runaway nightmare, she wouldn't even have to worry, about anything. But of course, he wouldn't even be doing this if life were like that.

The killer broke a window.

Yusei smiled quietly. His eyes took in the darkness hidden in the hallways, as well as the procession of shadows slowly swarming around him. He stopped.

It looks like its been here before, so it should already know where Akiza's bedroom is. But for some reason, it's going through the kitchen, perhaps to get some more knives or forks for the art. How could it carve up her body, Yusei could hear it ask? How could it dress that girl to express whatever demonic temptations it could manifest in its mind? What would be the most pleasurable way to do that, one that involved the most screaming, the most begging and pleading, whether it be with a hateful gleam in her eyes, or with tears cascading down her cheeks?

What would be the best way for that?

Yusei took a deep breath, and opened his eyes; the killer still had that flower with it.

And he couldn't help but smirk; does it still think that thing's a rose? But then again, why else would it bring said blossom with it? It did call itself the Black Rose, as it so incorrectly demonstrated with all the erroneous flowers strapped to the victims' bodies. Honestly, Yusei couldn't tell whether he should even do this; the creature was sad enough as is, so why make its life any harder?

But in the end, it seemed Akiza's perceptions took priority over everything.

It's why Yusei kept her eyes closed, all this time.

It finished in the kitchen. More than likely he's got two butcher knives with him, some needles, more than likely a spoon too. It doesn't look like it needed anything in the bathrooms since, judging from its latest works, its already got its cleaning products ready. That's funny though, why it decided to leave its knives at home. Was it just too lazy to bring them? Did it want to frame someone here?

Maybe, but that wouldn't be any fun. The psychopath gets its drive from running away from the police, from doing anything it can to get a laugh. The countless lives that fell before it, along with the immense flowers which cascaded away from it; it all just seems so trivial, when you look from its standpoint. It was bored, and it needed something to do with it time, so it took up this sick, twisted hobby.

That was a feeling Yusei could understand.

"You're going the wrong way," he said quietly to the lingering shadow nearby.

* * *

After days of deliberation, of pacing back and forth, of trying to figure out what he was going to say, what he should do, finally, _finally,_ Richard worked up his nerve. By now, his self-inflated pride had been demolished with every single scene he played in his head. From Sector Security hauling him away, to some top-notch assassin shooting his body up, to even a meteor striking him down in the most embarrassing way possible; it was as if everything in the universe was doing anything it could to prevent him from meeting up with Akiza. He kept stumbling over his own words, kept tripping over his confidence, all the while Andrew stared at him, laughing his ass off.

It was one of the rare times he actually wished he wasn't so average.

That night, Richard dressed himself up in his fanciest tuxedo. He combed his now shiny hair back, and stared at himself in the mirror. He'd already asked his coworkers what they thought about his appearance; some laughed, others told him to dial it down. Even that pregnant woman chipped in, telling him to bring something, a flower, maybe even a rose. Of course, he shot the suggestion down; she must've already had so many flowers, though in the end, he decided to take the woman's advice anyways.

Richard took a deep breath. Over and over again he rehearsed his lines, which consisted of a simple "hi" and "can I have another rose?" He wanted to say something else, but the man was so afraid of messing up. So afraid, in fact, he was starting to get sweaty again.

Andrew told him that stupid line was his ticket of getting in; when she asked why he couldn't just go buy another one, that's when he'd ask her out. Yeah, that should work, right?

Fat chance.

But Richard shook his head. "No!" he told himself. "This is it! I'm a cool guy, right? I'm nice, and…nice…"

 _Asshole,_ his mind snickered back.

This dilemma continued on, even after he got into that taxi, even after he told the driver her address. The word replayed his jeers, and reminded him of his own, twisted narcissistic comments, comments no one even remembers anymore. He kept recalling all the mistakes he's made, and started them out right then and there, as if Akiza was going to know about it. He painfully wrung his hands in front of him, as he watched the scenarios over and over again, from the time he stole his brother's action figure, the time he burned that waffle, the time he blamed a petty theft on some of the local gangs…

This thing was practically a damn _minefield._

How exactly was he supposed to know what to say and what not to say? His watch said it was around ten o'clock…is she sleeping? Would she think of him as annoying? Why was he even _going_ at this time? Couldn't he just wait until tomorrow morning?

But that wasn't going to work; his manager's niece was getting married, and he's supposed to help with the venue. He had morning and afternoon appointments the week after, and by then, she probably would've forgotten him. Heck, she might've forgotten him _now._

But Richard wasn't willing to waste another moment. If she did forget him, he wanted to remind her who he was. It was the least he could do for his own ego; who knows how many times Akiza's damaged his pride, and she never even had a real conversation with him!

As the taxi slowly came in front of the mansion, and the driver turned around, asking for her dues, Richard kept shaking.

This wasn't going to work.

This _seriously_ wasn't going to _work_.

But he straightened himself, and cleared his throat. He took a deep breath, paid the driver, turned around, and got out of the car.

The manor was incredibly…scary, so much so he never even noticed the taxi car speeding away, the laughing driver now howling throughout the night. Long, rectangular windows reflected back the darkness around it, and the green lawns in the front were a testament to Akiza's social status. At the center of the lawn, there was a large, beautiful fountain, though it was too far to see those intricate designs. He was barely standing outside that lawn, and already he was trembling. He looked down, and examined the tips of his shoes.

No way in _hell_ was he ready for this.

He would've turned away and left immediately. He would've called that taxi driver to come back and pick him up. He would've come up with any kind of excuse he could, if only to make sure his nerves get sorted out. He didn't want to have anything to do with the embarrassment that'd follow tonight, nothing at all that pertained to whatever would happen next. Even if he was just an average man, he still had his reputation to keep.

He really would've gone away, had he not seen the strange man coming from the gardens.

He was old, that man. His messy, grey hair kept on sashaying in his piercing, black eyes. The wrinkles on his face messily proclaimed his age, all the while giving him an intimidating look. His shadow was crooked, and though he didn't seem to have any back problems. Like Richard, he was wearing a tuxedo, but unlike Richard, he had a white rose strapped to his wrist; was he a gardener or something? Would that explain that backpack on him?

The assumption faded when the man broke the window to get inside. After that, all Richard could think about was Akiza's safety.

* * *

It was a lot smaller than Yusei thought it'd be, a bit more normal than he would've preferred. In hindsight, if Yusei overlooked the obvious insanity in its eyes, along with the huge backpack slung across its broad back, it looked a bit like the chancellor, Rudolph Heitmann; it even wore a Duel Academy teacher uniform, just to seal the deal. Its black, piercing eyes seemed to allude to the emotions it lacked, though its pale face automatically blanched when it saw Yusei. Gray hair clung to its neck, and though it was a bit frenzied, in the end Yusei regarded it evenly.

The peculiar creature stared at him emptily, that blank expression splattered across its arrogant face. How strange; this thing never thought of running away, never thought of doing anything of the sort, and what little surprise there was, it disappeared the moment it appeared. It was as if the monster felt it was invisible, that it could do anything he wanted to. And why not? It did kill so many different kinds of people, and molded them into its own creation, all without the fear of getting caught. An immature, childish brat, who couldn't do anything for itself, other than dream up its own delusions, and implement them in real life through crimson and black; how selfish, how simplistic, how predictable.

How boring.

"Can I help you?" it asked coyly, clearly not understanding the danger of the situation.

"I don't know," Yusei replied. "That depends."

After a pause, the thing frowned. "No seriously. _Can I help you_?"

"That _depends,"_ Yusei repeated, as he took one, nonthreatening step toward it. His eyes fell to the bag on its back, as well as the two butcher knives he carried in both his black combat boots, the handle unsheathed, and practically begging Yusei to steal them away. He moved his gaze to the flower wrapped around the creature's wrist. It was small, white, the petals briefly touching the rashes upon the boy's skin. There weren't any thorns on the flower, though Yusei decided to cast away the thought. He looked up at the monster again, his arms lifeless against his side. "I take it you're the Black Rose?"

The boy's eyes widened, but it remained calm. After a while, it asked, "What of it?"

"Huh; you didn't even try denying it."

"So?"

Yusei cocked his head, a playful little smirk on his lips. "How old are you?"

"None of your damn business," it stated assertively, the wild light in its pupils instantly brightening with frustration. Yusei could practically see all the questions circling around the its feeble mind; Akiza was supposed to be alone tonight, wasn't she? Parents are out, and her friends were busy with their own lives. Its disabled all the security cameras, shut down the drones, and still, there was someone here. The entire thing was so pathetic Yusei could barely keep down his laughter.

Still, there was one error he couldn't afford to ignore. "A word of advice," he muttered calmly, "if you're going to call yourself the Black Rose, the least you can do is get the flower right."

It narrowed his eyes. Slowly, Yusei pointed to the blossom on its wrist. It stared down at it for a while, before confusion overtook its face. "What're you talking about?"

"That's not a rose. You, of all people, should know that much."

It clenched his fists. "It is."

"How?" he pressed.

"It might not look it, but it is!"

"You still haven't-"

"It's called a Christmas rose," he continued, not even bothering to hold his breath. "'Relieve my anxiety'; that's what it means. Every time I look at it, I relax."

"I didn't ask for-"

"You get it? Look at it; even though it doesn't _look_ like a rose, it still is one. Doesn't matter what other people say; it has the _right_ to be called a rose." It straightened itself, as it scrutinized Yusei. Its shoulders tensed then, and it bit his lip, as if seeing for the first time the uneasiness the atmosphere afforded him. "What?" it pressed. "You don't believe me?"

Yusei stared at the creature for the longest time, until that cold, callous moonlight faded behind those velvet clouds, until he was sure it couldn't see him anymore, until, at last, he felt himself smile, if only a tiny bit. "Of course I don't."

"To each his own-"

"No," he said softly, as he took another step. He placed his hands in his pocket, and sighed. "You see, a Christmas rose isn't a rose. It's just masquerading as one."

"What-?"

"The little faker," he continued. "It doesn't matter what you do; a rose isn't a rose. Even if people label it as such, in the end that's all just speculation. Liar, slut, whatever you want to call it; just don't call it a rose. It's demeaning."

" _Look-"_

"Odd that someone like you would get defensive over something as stupid as this," Yusei stated, as he turned his heel. As of this point, the creature wasn't going to do anything to him; he knew that much. "Why? Are you upset that I called you out on something? I'm guessing you are. Hey, do you want to know what that _thing_ actually is?"

It stared at Yusei for a while. Dark eyes revealed no light, not one shred of humility, and aside from his subtle nod, Yusei couldn't tell anything else from its brain. Well, at least it was willing to learn. "What?" it asked then. "What-?"

"A hellebore," Yusei answered easily. "A poisonous flower that has absolutely nothing to do with roses. They say that the entire flower is poisonous, though of course, I wouldn't believe that. Did you know that back then, people believed witches used that flower to make themselves invisible? Strange idiots."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"Nothing at all," he said. "I just wanted you to understand that."

The toxins were making its way through that monster's body; even now, Yusei could tell that creature was having a hard time of standing. That tiny smile became a violent grin, as he help his hand against his lips, if only to keep himself from laughing. "Just out of curiosity though; how many of those fakers did you steal? Twenty? Thirty?"

The creature was beginning to stumble. His mouth was burning, as was his throat. There's an odd stabbing pain in its abdomen, with that loud, slowing heartbeat pounding against its ears. Its

vision was getting blurry, with tiny red and white spots splattering across his eyes. Yusei chuckled. "Still, I have to thank you. Those things were really annoying."

"W-wha-?" it started, but it couldn't finish its sentence. It couldn't hold itself up; its knees were getting weak, the weight of its body getting heavier and heavier. It collapsed on the floor, trying to keep itself sane, trying to get itself back. Its eyes were wide with disbelief. The confidence immediately faded from its expression, as it began groaning, clawing at its mouth, attempting to relief the pain coursing through his body.

It started convulsing rapidly.

"And," Yusei stated, as he walked over to the thing. He crouched down, and looked over the meticulous mess the monster had gotten itself into. "I'd be happy to take bring you to the garden. You're useless otherwise."

Just out of the corner of his eyes, however, he caught another, unfamiliar shadow scampering about, the panic so clearly evident in his movements.

So that's Richard.

* * *

Author's Note:

-Like Yusei said, the Christmas rose isn't a rose. Although the Helleborus niger can used as decorations, they're also incredibly poisonous in all parts. Like all its other counterparts, the Christmas rose is beautiful as it is deadly; symptoms range from vomiting to seizures to even nervous system depression (a fancy way of saying slowing your body down, which can lead to coma or death).


	5. Cantarella

Akiza walked through the gardens, her eyes taking in each individual petal without the slightest hesitation. Roses upon roses piled along one another, with nary a knowledge of corruption or loss. Thorns were nowhere to be seen, and weeds dared not to trample all over such their royal beauty. Their own, bright colors were made all the more evident through the afternoon sun stroking their petals.

And yet she closed her vibrant eyes, and smiled, recalling the dream she had nights before; even now, when she was awake, she could still remember its entirety. She could remember everyone's laughs, the way they kept on with their childish, harmless desires. She could remember the jokes Crow made, along with Jack's frustrated snorts. She could remember Leo and Luna observing the different kinds of plants around, trying to determine whether they were poisonous or not. She could remember her parents there, standing side by side, as they took in the lovely, peaceful morning. Of course, even when she was there, she knew it was but a dream, soon to be forgotten within the realms of time. But all the same, she couldn't bring herself to let go of that youthful illusion, at least, not just yet.

It's funny, how different waking up was.

The flowers here weren't as luscious. Unlike that sweet, fresh aroma she kept walking into every so often, there was a sickening, putrid scent here she couldn't even begin to ignore. Harsh shadows replaced soft silhouettes, and a howling wind coated the gardens with a foreboding air only she could feel. If she stayed at a distance from the gardens, it was easier to ignore the creeping suspicion in her stomach, as well as the soft suspicion that something was wrong. If she came any closer, she'd stop herself, turn around, and walk away. She's already searched through the rose bushes, the flowers, even the beds; there was nothing there, nothing at all.

But what's more, she couldn't shake off the morbid thoughts clouding her mind, the ominous feeling that there _was_ something here. Though no one else noticed anything, no matter how hard she tried ignoring it, there was something there. Monsters that clawed their way up, those horrific expressions on their faces, as they reached out to her, trying to drag their ragged bodies back to reality. Icy fingers clung to her desperately, endeavoring to steal whatever warmth she could afford to offer. Some screamed her name, shouting for her to save them, while others stared at her emptily, the resentment radiating from the whites of their eyes. Corpses dragging themselves from the ground, with flowers falling to pools of crimson and scarlet; sometimes organs would spill out, while other times, blood would spew from their mouths.

Even now, she sees one, in the distance.

"Aki."

She turned her heel, and found Yusei standing there, with that same, amiable smile on his face. He wore that same, blue jacket, with that same black shirt beneath, that strange, red insignia plastered on the fabric. A few hair strands were coated with yellow streaks, something that somehow matched his organized color scheme. Deep blue orbs stared down at her, and just below left cheek, that bright yellow marker, which illustrated through past prejudices. Akiza smiled back. "Hey. Is everyone here?"

"Yeah," he said calmly. "Jack and Crow are still fighting."

She couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Must've been awkward."

He sighed then. His eyes avert to the gardens behind her, taking in the view of the flowers nearby. Akiza blinked, then turned back, that genuine smile slipping from her for a brief moment. That man was still there, staring off at her with those desperate eyes. A man who was average looking, of average height. He had dark brown hair, with droopy eyes, ones that made her think of a whimpering puppy, waiting for their master to come home.

He was holding a single, crumpled rose in his hand.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she heard Yusei ask.

"Y-yeah," she lied, barely struggling to keep down her rising curiosity.

"Did you hear?"

She turned back to the duelist, and shook her head, that shadow of a smile returning to her face. "What is it?"

"They caught the serial killer."

 _That_ got her attention. Relief coursed through her system, and though she did feel a little guilty, she couldn't help but breathe relaxingly. "How? Where'd they even-?"

"His body was found in the streets," Yusei stated. "One of the victims got away and told the police. Right now, Trudge is saying he killed himself."

She gulped. Did she even want to ask anymore? "Did…what was he…?"

"No one's saying anything right now," he replied. "In a few days though, the guy's background will be all over the news." He examined her for a little while, before smirking. "You really are morbid, aren't you?"

Heat flushed across her cheeks, and she looked down. From the corner of her eyes, she could still see that man there, watching, waiting for her to turn around. He wanted to say something, but whenever he opened his mouth, he just stops. Quiet, painful gibberish rebounded through her ears, gibberish with a touch of sorrow, gibberish she could almost understand…

"Aki?"

She looked up.

The gibberish ceased.

"You know, you spend a lot of time here." Yusei said softly, as he reached out and took her hand.

She stared at him for a moment. "I guess I do," she started, when she stopped herself. She looked back at the gardens then, at its entirety, at the seemingly angelic atmosphere surrounding it. The surreality enveloped her senses, as if beckoning her to come back, to join it in that same dream she had over and over again.

But that's not right.

"No." she whispered quietly.

He blinked confusingly. "What'd you mean?"

"I just…don't like being here." she managed, as she gazed back at the now silent man. It's funny; from here he looked like a normal person, like any stranger she met on the street. Why was he standing there though? In the thorns?

"Akiza-"

"The atmosphere's suffocating," she murmured quietly. "I can't even breathe here."

Silence came between them then. An eerie splay of tension corrupted that perfect air, and Akiza regarded the gardens, tearing her attention away from the man, to see through this field of dreams. She could practically see it now; blood for water, decaying corpses for fertilizer, with those sinful flowers blossoming with those same, parasitic intentions. Thorns to protect those emotional demons, leaves to draw in whatever unfortunate crime had taken place from once upon a time, petals to draw in the innocent…

Yusei gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Then we should leave."

"R-right."

And with that, Akiza and Yusei walked away, unbeknownst to the witch that she was leaving a field of bodies behind.


End file.
